


Badminton Dibidibidi-Doubles

by Anonymous



Category: SHINee
Genre: Badminton, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Hospitals, Illnesses, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 11:29:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20275189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: author:alliepjammies.tumblr.comprompt #60: Minho & Kibum VS Jonghyun & Jinki are rival badminton pairs throughout a pro competition up to the finals who become friends. Minho & Kibum are the intimidating aces of their training base who dislike each other but are being forced to as a team get sponsorships as solos if they win. Jonghyun & Jinki are no names who have played together forever and are in the competitions for a fun time as the last chance of fulfilling their childhood dream because Jinki will retire soon from an injury/illness as Jonghyun goes on as a solo.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for: cliche anime tropes such as tsundere Key, the bonds of friendship and a lot of flashbacks. Could've been better but isn't.

With the final strike, the birdie fell the other side, laying motionlessly on the field. This scene was all too familiar, as the calls of his team filled the stadium. 

“Congratulations.”

“I can’t believe you mad it.”

“You beat them good.”

Compliments wisps by him as he walked, praises surrounding him and his effort. 

“I always knew you’d make it to the finals.”

That’s right – with this match won, he made it to the finals. They, made it to the finals. 

It’s a milestone, it’s one more step closer to his goal, but why doesn’t he feel as happy as he should. 

“Stop making that face, it makes you look worse than you normally do.” He raised his head, facing his partner. 

“Why so sad Minho, are you upset you didn’t get the winning strike,” he teased, “I guess I can’t blame you. Oh well, a sour face for a sour attitude.”

“Is that why you always look the way you do?” Minho said, “Afterall, who’s sourer than Kim Kibum?” 

That’s right – he was one step closer to his goal. When he wins the finals, he’ll finally go solo.

~///~

It was on the news, the Flaming Crowns win. Korean Wave Badminton Tournament was the new trend, and soon enough both team member’s faces were plastered on every media outlet. Picking up a news paper with said faces on it, a young man started to look through it. With on leg crossed on top of the other, he stuck his tongue in his check, as he scanned the words on the page. 

“Did you hear about the win,” the man said to his roommate, who was occupied in the other room. 

“About Flaming Crowns? Yeah, they’re a good group.”

“It’s going to be hard to beat them.”

“But we can do it,” the roommate came with a cup of milk tea, sitting down on the armchair across from him. An alarm rang from the older man’s watch, as he placed his newspaper down, and reached for the pill and water beside him. Popping it inside his mouth, the boy flushed it down with his water. 

“But does it work?” the roommate asked, referring to his medicine. 

“Good enough to keep on going to the last match,” he said. 

“I’m being serious here Jinki, I don’t want you to hurt yourself just because-”

“I’m fine Jonghyun,” he reassured him, “besides, badminton is like physical therapy for me, if anything, it’s helping my treatment.”

“If you say so,” Jonghyun said, “On a different note, what do you think about these armchairs I bought, got a pretty good deal if I do say so myself.” 

“Didn’t you get this from the old lady a few floors down?” 

“Yeah, after I carried both armchairs down to the streets for disposal, I realized that these chairs would actually look good in our apartment, so I asked her if I could take them. After that I brought them all the way up, and to thank me the old lady baked me some fresh peanut butter cookies served with milk.”

“She lives on the third floor, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And we live on the fifth?”

“I would be pretty concerned if we had the wrong floor.”

“So, you carried the two chairs down three flight of stairs, then brought them back up five?”

“But aren’t they comfy?” Jinki stared at his friend, processing what he confirmed, blinking slowly. 

With a sudden flash of change, he gleamed his gummy smile, rubbing the arms of the chair, “Yeah, they really are! And is this, microfibre?”

“You bet,” Jonghyun said bouncing on his seat. 

“Such luxury, we live like kings.”

~///~

Birdies were tossed back and forth, the net aligned two opponents, as they swung their rackets, as the shuttle ricochet against the monofilament polyester. The two players eyes were focused, their pupils rapidly following the shuttle, swiftly moving their feet, calculating each move. With a final strike the birdie spiraled to ground, next to Minho’s feet. 

As if it he was releasing all his tension in his muscle, Kibum let out a sigh – actually more of a groan – as he wiped the sweat that cladded on his forehead. Eyes closed, head hung up, he didn’t notice his partner in front of him until his side was poked with the rod of a racquet.

“I only lost because if I reached for the swing, I would’ve strained my arm,” Minho said, Kibum feeling the space beside him getting heavier. Sliding down the other way, he kept his eyes closed, arms crossed. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“I’m serious, you have to pay attention to the way you swing, the other time your shot was almost out of bounds, your swings are unpredictable. It’s like you don’t think when you play anymore.” 

Slipping the dirty towel off of his forehead, his threw the towel on the ground, “can’t you leave me alone for at least a moment,” he let out another groan, this one definitely not a sigh, “why do you care so much, focus your energy on winning,” his feline eyes coldly leered his peer. 

“I’m trying to but my partner is playing like a sub-par athlete. No matter how good I am, you play like that and it can cost us the game. I’m a badminton ace, not Hercules.” Kibum got up, grabbing his bag, mumbling how annoying he was. 

“If you were half as good at getting on my nerves than you were playing, you wouldn’t need to me to win the finals.” 

Before leaving he halted his steps, slightly turning his head before saying, “if you forgotten, some of us got this far because of our ‘sub-par’ skills, and not because our Fathers are renowned players, _ daddies’ boy _.” 

Minho shot up, his fist clenched, “Yah,” his call falling on deaf ears. Shaking, he grabbed a bottled water, drinking it down in one go. Throwing the empty plastic aside, he collected his thoughts. _ Who does he think he is _ , Minho thought, _ stuck up cold hearted rich boy. _

“Excuse me,” a young boy said from behind. Turning around Minho face a young man in his early twenties, holding his empty bottle. 

“I think you dropped this,” he said. Taking it from his Minho smiled, thanking him. 

“No problem,” Taemin said. 

“You’re calling it a day?”

“Yeah, I lost most of the birdies in the new pack I got, so I decided I should go home before I lose the last one I have.”

“I’m sorry, you lost your birdies?” Minho scrunched his face in confusion, as Taemin pointed to the ceiling with his racquet. Glancing up, a collection of discarded shuttles stuck between the network of pipes in the ceiling. 

“I see,” Minho said. 

“How about you, how’s practice with Kibum?”

“Don’t ask,” Minho said, before pausing, “say Taemin, what do you when you and your partner can’t get along?”

“You and Kibum in another fight?”

“When are we not?”

“Fair enough,” he thought for a minute, “I can’t say Jongin and I have gotten in a fight before. No wait we have. I wanted grilled meat, he wanted fried chicken, it wasn’t pretty. But after a week we forgot why exactly we were mad at each other so it worked out in the end.” 

“Thank you, that was very helpful,” in which he meant that it was _ not _helpful, at all. 

“Anything for my number one star athlete.”


	2. Chapter 2

Lights flashed, crowds cheered, and like everything revolving this tale, badminton was being played. The set was three, the score 16-20. The winning side smoothly moving in time with another, movements looking like synchronized dancing. The shuttle projecting forward, almost grazing the top of the net, was quickly met with a net shot, the birdie failing to be hit by the opponent’s racquets. 

They advanced to the last stage of the semi-finals, the sweaty boys smiling at each other. They were so close to the finals, they could feel it in their guts. 

Relieving from their stations, Jinki and Jonghyun entered the locker room, taking their allotted time to regaining their strength and adapting new plans. Popping a pill in his mouth, Jinki jugged the rest of his bottle down his throat. 

“We’re almost there,” he said, wiping his mouth, “one more game and we’ll be in the final.”

“And we’ll finally achieve our dreams,” Jonghyun held a cold towel against his forehead, “how’s your arm holding up?” 

Flexing his limb in question, he smiled back at his friend, “I think it can take another game.” 

“Alright,” Jonghyun threw his fist in the air, “there’s nothing holding us back, let’s do this!” 

“And after this game, drinks will be on me,” Jinki said, “and maybe even chicken.”

Jonghyun stretched, “I can’t wait till this tournament is over and we can leave the apartment. It’s been two whole months without my Roo and I miss her so much.”

“I’m sure she’s doing just fine.”

“It’s the 21 st centenary, why is there still ‘no pets allowed’ rules again?”

“Because some people are allergic?” 

“And I pray for their poor souls every day.”

Returning to the court, the two stood in position, Jinki holding especially hard on his racquet. Taking the position behind, he prepared to strike the serving shot. The teams went back at it like they should, Jinki reaching for the higher shots, while Jonghyun stayed in the front. A set became a game, 2-1, they seemed ahead, but only just. 

The crowed couldn’t stay still, and neither could Kibum and Minho, both sitting in the sea of speculators. Getting a glimpse of their future competitors, whoever the fortunate winners may be, was something they planned strategically. Minho’s eyes followed the path of the birdie, a slow smile forming on his face as he felt the game become more intense by the minute. Kibum analyzed each movement, their reactions, their timing, their synchronization, until he himself could image himself on either side of the court, battling for his crown.

With the other team serving, Jinki stroke it, the opposing team shuffle to the right, striking it in a half-court manner, Jonghyun catching up to the birdie with a quick flick. The enemy attempting an attack clear, the stroke narrow and spiralling downwards, skimming past the small space of air and Jonghyun’s racquet. In a launch of desperation, Jinki leaped, outreaching and hitting the birdie, falling on his arm. 

Whipping his head back, he whipped it back to the front, as the shuttle was projected straight back to him. With one final movement, Jonghyun ran the furthest her could get, stretching both arms, and at the shuttles highest point, he swung his arm with full force, ending the match with a forehand smash. 

Discarding his racquet to the side, Jonghyun ran to his friend, holding him up, gently lifting his throbbing arm, “We need medical attention!” After a few minutes of confusion and chaos, Jinki was offered to be taken to the hospital through an ambulance. 

Bracing, he declined, “I’ll have Jonghyun take me there, no need for an ambulance.”

“Are you kidding me? Look how badly you’re injured?”

“I’ll be fine without an ambulance.” 

“Jinki,” his voice was firm, warning him of his own selflessness. 

“Jonghyun.”

Carefully draping his body weight on his own, Jonghyn made his way to their car, quietly complaining about his friend’s decision on the way. Minho was the first of the two to get up, as he quickly made his way through the crowd. Following, Kibum called from behind, “where you going?”

“I have to check if their okay, his condition didn’t look to good.”

“Wait,” Minho halted, “I’ll go with you, I want to see our new competitors in person. I’ll drive us there, I know a shortcut, and if we’re lucky, we’ll make it faster than the press.

~///~

The only thing that filled the space between the two was the heavy silence. Lying on the bed, the patient closed his eyes, the other sitting on the chair beside it. A simple injection of immunosuppressant medications, something in a higher dosage than that he usually would take. Just his muscles inflaming more than they should, probably triggered because of his fall – most likely because of his fall. His arm also hurt like hell, but that was a given. 

“I’m alright,” he said, his eyes still resting. 

“Don’t,” Jonghyun said, “you are certainty not fine. You could have permanently injured yourself.”

“If I didn’t get that shot, we would have lost the game.”

“So? Is a stupid game as important as your health?”

“This is our only chance; don’t you want to finally achieve what you’ve been fighting for your whole life?” 

“Not if it means putting of your wellbeing in danger,” his eyes, suddenly made of glass, “never at the cost of you.” He reached for his friend’s hand, clasping his warmth to share it with him, “You’re more important thing I’m fighting for.” 

Smiling warmly at his friend, he freed one of his hand to place it on top, “I promise to be more careful. It doesn’t do us any good, making each other worry.” He reached over to Jonghyun, hugging him with one arm. 

With the knock of the door, the nurse informed them of a visitor. Jinki, thinking it was Jonghyun sister who somehow was contacted in this short time, and Jonghyun confused as he hadn’t called his sister, but assumed she saw his fall on the broadcast, allowed the visitor in. Walking in, with a bouquet of flowers, Minho and Kibum awkwardly shifted inside the room. 

“We saw what happened at the game, and wanted to know how you’re doing,” Minho explained through his sight stutter, handing over the flower to boy in the chair. 

“I’m Kibum, and this is Minho. We’re the finalist to the Korean Wave Tournament, in other words,” his gaze glossed over the two strangers, “we’re your competition.” 

“But not right now,” Minho quickly blurted, “right now, we’re here to see how your doing. At least, that’s what I’m here for.” 

“I’m doing fine, thank you for your concern,” Jinki’s smiled showed no malice, “also thank you for he flowers, they look lovely.” 

The air was awkward, neither knew what to do with themselves. Picking on his sleeve, Kibum’s focus was elsewhere, all to familiar with these rooms. Minho scratched the back of his head before he started to say something. 

“Will you be good in time for the competition? Not that I’m wishing anything bad, I rather not win at all than win because my opponent was unable to play, you know.”

“Defiantly, just give it some rest, and I’ll be back to new again,” Jinki said. 

“That’s great,” Minho said. 

The room was once again back on the edge, this time a knock on the door halted the atmosphere. Entering, the nurse notified them that Jinki would be discharged soon, she just needed some paper work to be done, something Jonghyun though didn’t take pleasure doing, would much rather be doing than be in this room. Exiting, Minho and Kibum also took their leave, the monolid boy slightly pushing the taller one. 

The two met up with Jonghyun, saying their farewells, “I hope for a fast recovery,” Minho said. 

“You two are leaving now?”

“Minho is, I have some work to do here before I leave,” Kibum explained, well before he told Minho, “I’m not too sure how he’ll get home, I was his ride here.”

“Do you want me to drop you off?” Jonghyun asked, Minho shaking his head vigorously, “it’s really no problem.”

“It’s alright, I’ll call a cab to pick me up, no need for you to go the extra mile.”

“You paid us a visit, it’s the least I could do.”

“Yeah, but we were only a nuisance.”

“But it was still very nice of you,” Jonghyun insisted. 

“It was just a formal-”

“Minho will gladly accept your offer,” Kibum interrupted, “now if you excuse me.”

The odd pair left alone, Jonghyun motioned to follow him, Minho awkwardly going along.


	3. Chapter 3

Looking through the rear-view mirror, Jonghyun drove with ease. With one hand gripping the wheel, the other lounged on the open window border. Whistling along with which ever tune was playing on the radio, he took no notice of the new presence in his car. Instead On the contrary, the younger boy sat still, his harms stiff beside him, unsure where to put them. He made sure not to make a sound, closely watching the moving background. 

“Gee, if I didn’t know any better, I would have thought you just murdered someone and hid him in the back.” 

Minho whipped his head around, the driver’s eyes still on the road, “Come on’ loosen up a bit,” he said, switching hands on the wheel, and using the now free one to playfully shake him. 

“Yeah, okay,” Minho said, shaking himself, “I’m relaxing from now on.” The drive continued to be only filled with the radio playing and Jonghyun’s humming. With a sudden gasp that came from Jonghyun, Minho eyes shot, scattering to see the problem, “what’s wrong, what happened?”

Reaching for the volume knob, Jonghyun cranked it up, squealing, “I love this song!” His humming switched to him belting his lungs out, and though it should have sounded off-key, his honey voice was quite pleasant. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t know this song,” Jonghyun nudged the passenger, “come on, it’s a classic, sing along with me.”

Minho mumbled the words, slowly getting into the rhythm, his confidence growing with each note. Jonghyun cheered on his new singing partner, as they both let the lyrics filled the car. As the last chorus came along, Jonghyun took over the vocal runs, as Minho kept the melody of the song going. With a ‘whoo’ from Jonghyun, the song ended with both of them high-fiving. 

Minho learned two things during that drive; the first being that Jonghyun was a general nice guy, the second being that Jonghyun was a very dangerous driver. 

~///~

“You can drop me off right here, I can get home easily from there,” Minho pointed to the SM building. 

“ _ Striking Moment Badminton Centre _ huh? I heard they train the best badminton athletes there.”

“It’s true,” Minho pointed his thumb to himself, “they trained me well.” Jonghyun laughed, as he parked to the curb near the building.

“Well I would love to go here someday,” Jonghyun said, as they both exited the car, “that would be pretty cool.”

“Why can’t you train now?” 

Jonghyun shook his head, “too expensive, though I am tempted to use a free trail and drop it the day before it’s done.” 

Minho laughed, “well if you like, you can practice with me now. I don’t think they’ll mind one visitor.”

“Really?” Jonghyun perked up, “that would be amazing.” 

Opening the door for the wide-eye boy, Minho gestured for him to enter the building, “after you.”

Jonghyun’s head whipped left to right, as he took in the décor of the lobby, gasping as he entered pass the double doors, into the gymnasium. Court after court, he soaked in the sight of multiple athletes playing down the row, breathing in the perspiration that filled the air. 

Leading him to an empty field, Minho threw him a racquet, and through their nature, the took their places, feet implanted on the floor. Minho served, a long serve, the cock flying deep into the court. Jonghyun hit it with full force, Minho following its movement. The rally continued, the two enjoying themselves, the game staying casual. With a push shot, Jonghyun caused the birdie to spiral towards the net, Minho blocking it with a flick. The shuttle fell shortly right at the shorter boy’s feet, just close enough to miss his toes by a hair. 

“Wow, that game was amazing,” a voice called, as the sound of feet running approached them. Taemin picked up the birdie, as if he was examining an important evidence at a crime scene. 

“It  _ was  _ a good game,” Jonghyun said. Minho ducked under the net, beside of his opponent now, outreaching his hand. Ignoring his hand, Jonghyun went for a one arm hug, “we’re friends now, we hug, not shake,” he patted his back. 

“Hey,” Taemin leaned to get a better look of Jonghyun when he parted, “you are one of the finalists for the Koran Tournament right? How’s your friend? Is he okay?” 

Jonghyun sheepishly scratched the back of his head, “Yeah, I’m Jonghyun. Jinki is fine, thanks for asking. Who are you?”

“Taemin,” he said as he twirled the racquet, they didn’t notice he had, “I’m a member here,” he placed his arm around Minho’s shoulder, “and I’m their self-appointed apprentice.” 

“You mentor?”

“Apparently.”

“So how good are you Taemin?” Jonghyun asked. 

“Pretty good if I do say so myself,” Taemin said, “but not as good as Minho, though that’s a given, considering he’s a legend.”

“Really?”

“Yup, his father is the famous badminton player-turned-coach, Choi Yunkyum,” Taemin seemed bashful, as if it was his own father. Minho, on the other hand, shifted his weight, smiled weakly. 

“No way,” Jonghyun practically yelled, quickly grabbing onto Minho’s arms, “you’re so lucky!”

“It’s not that great of a thing,” Minho trailed, his head turned downwards. 

Jonghyun let go of his friend, “That’s true, it could be crummy to have such a famous father. It’s like a curse and a blessing, right?”

Minho hesitated, then nodded slowly. It was a blessing and a curse, it really was. It was both a blessing and-

“Still there’s no doubt Minho has badminton in his genes,” Taemin said. 

“Actually, they’re khaki shorts,” Jonghyun said, referring to his bottom-wear. 

~///~

Kibum took the right down the hall, entering the third door, quietly opening and closing the door. He took a seat next to the lying body, as his eyes absorbed the way its chest raised and fell. Taking its hand, her rubbed the back with his thumb, delicate, as if they would wake – as if they could wake. 

The women looked so peaceful, even if her face was ever so pale, even if the tubes the connected her were still present, even if the beeping of machines left no moment of silence, she looked peaceful. He placed the stray strand of hair away from her face, carefully, as he caught himself trying to find a sign of consciousness. 

Though he knew he knew that wasn’t possible, he caught himself hopeful. 

“You look as gorgeous as ever,” Kibum spoke, “of course, I’m not surprised. I’m good, thanks for asking. Actually, I think I gained a bit, which is strange because I’ve been training so hard lately. Oh – I’m not sure you’ve heard – of course you haven’t, they don’t put any TVs here, so tacky – anyways, I’ve made it into the finals. Well, technically both Minho and I made it, but that’s not important. He’s not important.”

He got up from his seat, deflecting the blinds, the sunshine leaving her face, “you should really invest in a skin care routine, all that sun isn’t all that good for your skin. Not to mention all the chemicals in the air, just terrible.”

“I met the other finalists, one of them is in this hospital right now. I’m not sure what’s wrong with him, but I’m sure it’s something serious, the way the other guy reacted. I wonder what it could be, I wonder.”

“It’s so boring in the hospital,” he smacked his lips, his mouth dry from talking so much, “why don’t you hurry and recover so I can’t stop coming. Besides, Grandma won’t make  _ samgyetang _ without you, since it’s your favourite dish. She’s sentimental like that. Kinda like you,” he paused, “kinda like me.”

“I miss you mom.”

~///~

He closed the door quietly exiting the room, making his way back to the front. Passing the front reception, he lifted his head in retaliation of his name being called. Turning his head to the backwards position, he slightly smiled. 

Jinki’s eyes were a crescent, as he walked beside him, “I though you two left already.” 

“I was visiting someone,” he said nonchalantly. 

“Really? I hope they’re okay.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” he wasn’t lying, it was all too normal. 

“That’s good.”

“How about you?” 

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Jinki shrugged. 

“I hope so,” Kibum said, “your partner – Jonghyun was it? – he seemed quite worried,” he tilted his head as he looked at the boy beside him, “more worried than something ordinary should warrant.”

“Or that Jonghyun just worries too much?” Jinki said, “you should really be carful when you assume, people might actually think you want it to be true.”

“And why would I want that?”

“I don’t know,” Jinki faced the male, “why would you want that,” his smile seemed to never leave. 

The two were held at a standstill, both staring each down, Jinki’s smile becoming more earie, Kibum’s patience becoming thinner. He tried to analyze him, try to get into his thoughts, what could Jinki be thinking, what does Jinki know, or what does he think he knows. 

“I have dermatomyositis,” Jinki said, his smile gone, “it’s a condition that weakens my muscles through inflammation of the muscle tissues. There’s no cure, and treatment is garnered towards management of the condition. This means heavy physical activities are hard for me, in other words, intensive competitive badminton is bad for my muscles.”

“Why are you telling me this?” 

“You were curious, weren’t you?” Jinki voice seemed turn darker, “I’m curious too, what are  _ you  _ hiding?”

Kibum hated losing, but he also hated when someone had the upper hand. He also hated when someone thinks they’re better at a game he’s been plays all the time. But most importantly, Kibum hated Jinki. 

“My mother’s in a coma, has been for three years. Father doesn’t have the heart to let her go, but can’t spare himself to see her once. Satisfied?” 

Jinki’s face shifted through emotions of sympathy and confusion, and settled with something plain. 

“What’s wrong, weren’t you curious?” Kibum click his tongue inside his mouth, “word of advice, don’t try to win a game you don’t know how to play.”

“A game?” Jinki scoffed with disbelief, “you think that, like what, this is a game?”

“Everything’s a game if you know how to play it well.”

“I don’t understand-”

“I never asked you to,” Kibum said, making is way around the older boy, “now if you excuse me, I have places to go.”


	4. Chapter 4

It was raining when he got back, running towards his house, quick enough not to get too wet. Switching his shoes with his indoor slippers, he entered the house. The hanok seemed warmer today, or maybe that was because the wooden floors looked deeper contrasted with the dark outside. Sitting down in the dining area, an old lady brought a tray with her, placing it infront of him. Taking the  _ jeon _ with a chopstick, he took a bite, his eyes wandering to the pitter of outside. With a drink of  _ makkeolli  _ he thanked for the meal. 

“Was today heard?” she asked, knitting beside the boy.

“Not really, but it was interesting.”

“Is that so?”

“I met the two from our rival team, Shinning Imperials. They seem good, not as good as I am though. Jinki, one of the players, has a chronic disease that affects his muscles, I wonder how long he can keep up? He was in the hospital because of it after the game. I really do wonder.”

“Badminton must mean a lot to him then,” she replied, “you better finish your food, I don’t want you to be fainting with all that training.”

“I met mom today,” Kibum said, taking another bite, “she seemed the same as always,” the old lady hummed, nodding. 

“Say Grandma, how about we have some  _ samgyetang  _ some time soon.”

~///~

Minho debated whether he should walk home or call a cab to take him home. His house was close, just a few blocks down the road, it would really be a waste to call a cab, but he really didn’t want to walk through the rain. Still debating within himself, Taemin starched out his hand, giving him an umbrella. 

“We can share one,” Taemin said, “we do live in the same direction. But if we do share, you have to hold the umbrella.”

Minho, smiling, replied, “And why is that?”

“Well, number one, because you’re taller, and number two, because my hands are tired after practicing so hard.” 

Minho agreed, the two making their way to their homes. Taemin joked to Minho, that he couldn’t believe his biggest fan is following him home. Minho assured him that he has no worries about that considering that Taemin wasn’t actually his biggest fan.

“Then who is? Don’t tell me it’s Jongin?”

“I’m not telling ~” Minho teased, “but it could be.”

“Traitor,” Taemin jokingly muttered, “and after everything I’ve done for you, haven’t I been a great student?”

“I don’t ever recall becoming your mentor,” Minho said. 

“Sure, it was the first day I came to SM, I saw you and Kibum play for the first time, and mesmerized, I asked if you can take me under your wing, and Kibum said that you’d love to.”

Minho shook his head, it always went back to Kibum messing with him, still, it was nice to know someone looked up to him like that. Looking at him lovingly, ruffling his hair. Quickly fixing it, he playfully hit his mentor. Their joking stopped once they reached Minho’s house. It was bigger than Taemin’s place, or at least that’s what Taemin said. 

“I still think it’s really cool that your dad is so well inversed in badminton, it’s like this life was made for you.” 

Minho chose his words carefully, “That’s what I’ve been told.”

“You don’t like it?”

That surprised Minho. He did like it. He loved badminton, that’s why he puts all his effort into it, that’s why he managed to get this far. He loved it – so why does he sound like he’s trying to convince himself of it. 

“I love playing badminton, if I didn’t, how would I’ve gotten this far?”

“I believe you,” Taemin said, “but other people might not when you look so sad when you say that.” 

Taemin’s words repeated in the older’s head, as he changed his clothing. But it was true, he did love playing badminton, that’s why he first picked up the racquet. The feeling you get when you hit the shuttle, the adrenaline running through your veins as you countered against your opponent. The satisfaction when the birdie fall, just missing the other racquet. Those feelings were beyond words, he just couldn’t explain them truly. That’s why he loves badminton, no matter who you play against, or how many times you play, the feelings stay the same.

But if that’s the case, then why does he not feel these things anymore. 

No matter who he’s against, no matter how successful he is, no matter how good he gets, the feeling is gone. 

He hated badminton. 

~///~

_ It was amazing, the fact that his father was such a successful athlete, and a successful coach. He felt proud whenever he saw his father on TV, or when someone with a fancy watch would talk to him. Whenever he would talk to his friend would talk about what their parents did, he would puff his chest and proudly tell them who exactly his father was.  _

_ Maybe that’s the same feeling his father had when he saw him first trying to play badminton. That sense of proudness, that feeling that their someone who was crafted for only great things. And maybe, because of this, he was determined that Minho achieved these great things.  _

_ He never forgets the first official game he won, the look in his father’s tired eyes. He could see them gleaming, as if he just moved a mountain. That look made him want to work harder, to show more of him. And maybe that’s why his father wanted more of him too. The more he worked hard, the higher the expectation. For what is the destiny of the child of such a famous father if it isn’t similar fame.  _

_ And so slowly he played not because he loved his father, but because he resented him. And slowly he no longer did the sport spark something inside him, it only left him feeling hallow.  _

_ But he couldn’t really tell when it happened, or if that was the case at all. Did he really love it? Was there ever a passion beyond proudness. And that scares him the most. _

~///~

Jonghyun rushed to the dinner table, a hot pot held between his oven mitts. Lifting the lid, the steam of the fresh made  _ ramyeon _ , waving the scent to his friend. Laughing, Jinki took some of the fresh meal, complimented on how it smelled great, and surprisingly not burnt at all.

“What do you take me as? I have you know, I’m just as good a chef as I’m a badminton player.”

“Maybe that’s why we haven’t won a tournament yet.” 

Jonghyun teasingly scoffed, taking some of his own concoction, slurping the noodles as he ate. He talked about how after dropping Minho off, he offered to play a round with him at the SM centre. He raved about the place, how sleek and new everything looked. How light the racquets felt, how the birdie would pierce effortlessly every time. He went on about his match, the skill Minho demonstrated, it was clear to him why he made it to the top. It was odd, no actually it was more ironic, how the two can be so far apart. Minho seemed to be sweet, almost tender by the way Jonghyun described him. Wasn’t he the one who wanted to see how he was, he can't really remember? But Kibum, he was cold, calculating, downright scary. He wondered how the two ever got along maybe there was a side of Kibum he doesn’t know, there must be. 

“His father is famous badminton player too; do you know Choi Yunkyum?” 

Jonghyun continued, saying that it was no wonder he was so good at badminton. Not because his father was a badminton player per say, but because there was always someone – something he had to surpass, the drive must have pushed him to where he was.

“But still, something was off,” Jonghyun said, “he's really good at it, his precision was perfect, his all was perfect, and that’s what was off. It was too perfect, too constructed, as if his movements were work orders rather than pure impulses.” 

“That can be the implications of having such a figure in your life, badminton must have been heavily implied. Maybe not said out loud, but those trophies probably gave out those impressions.”

“That’s can very much be true,” Jonghyun said, “I think – I think, we should get to know them more. I think we can all benefit from that.”

Jinki thought for a moment, he’d want to meet the boy his friend was raving about, and he’d want to meet Kibum too, maybe to know him better, maybe because his curiosity got the better of him. 

“You do have Minho’s number, right?”

~///~

Kibum waited in front of SM, leaning on the wall, tapping his foot with each passing second. He wasn’t sure why he agreed to come in the first place – that was a lie, he knew exactly why he was here. Still, he wished Minho didn’t trick him coming earlier than needed. He’d been waiting for a good fifteen minutes, and it didn’t help when Minho would constantly ask if he saw them coming yet. 

He was about to tell Minho to use his height for good use and look for himself if they were almost here, but the two drove into the parking lot, making Kibum miss his chance. Minho actively greeted his new friends, Kibum opting for a more of a quick ‘hello’. The four entered the building, Jonghyun hyping Jinki about it as they walked through the doors. 

Jinki had to admit, it really was something, and all the praises Jonghyun gave it lived up to them. After giving the new guest a quick tour of the facility, Kibum proposed a match, they were at a badminton gym after all. Getting into place, Minho served first, Jonghyun returning, the match starting. Maybe it was because Kibum saw how they played before that gave them the advantage, or maybe they weren’t as good as they seemed, but with a full smash the set became theirs. 

“Let’s take a break from here,” Jonghyun said, his hands on his knees, catching his breath. 

Minho, doing the same, smugly said, “Why, afraid to lose?” letting a little laugh at the end. 

“No, but Jinki sure looks like he needs one,” he said. 

Jinki rolled his shoulder, “I’m fine, let’s finish this.”

“We shouldn’t push it,” Kibum said, “I don’t want you to injure yourself before the finals. Why don’t you come with me to the break room, we can get fresh towels from there?” 

Unsure, and a bit cautious, he followed the younger boy to the break room. Entering the room, Kibum showed him where they keep the fresh towels, buying him a cold bottled water from the vending machine. Jinki thanked him, as he took a sip from the bottle. 

“How’s your arm?” 

“It’s much better, thanks for asking.”

“There’s no real cure to the disease and treatment is usually through the consumption of corticosteroid to help reduce inflammation of the muscles, sometimes intravenous immunoglobin is needed, I’m assuming that’s what was used the day you were admitted in the hospital. Therapy is also used to help treatment, whether that be through heat or physical means, badminton has that covered for you. Still, to have constant drug therapy must take a toll on the medical bill, that’s probably why you want to win this, so you can use sponsorship for your medicine, right?” 

“You did your research,” Jinki said amused, “but I’m not doing this for the money, in fact after this tournament, I’m hanging my racquet up for good. Your right, the treatment isn’t something to joke about, and the access pressure on my muscles are doing worse than good. To tell you the truth, I’m not looking too well, there has been a report of a malignant, and I’m having a surgery right after the tournament. 

But that’s why I want to win this so badly, because this is my last chance to do so. It’s been a dream of Jonghyun and mine since we were kids to win. When we turned thirteen, we enrolled in a training camp, so we could become top players. One day, while practicing, I blacked out and they took me to the hospital. That’s when I found out about my diagnoses, but it fit well to what was happening. I though the reason why I felt so weak was because the training and I blamed my weight loss to it too. 

I promised Jonghyun that this wouldn’t come between our goal, and at first Jonghyun didn’t let me play, he almost quit because of me. Of course, I wouldn’t let that happen, and so we made a pact that until my health is compromised, we’ll work together to win one tournament. This is our last chance to win. I don’t care about a scholarship, I care about Jonghyun and our dream. 

You must be wondering why I’m telling you all this, I’m not to sure about that myself. Maybe apart of me believes that there’s something underneath the façade you put up, or perhaps I just want to see what you do with this new information. Jonghyun and I are partners, and that’s something that you don’t have with Minho. Sure, you two are teammates by definition, but as far as I see, you display no traits of that whatsoever. You can say that’s one thing we have against you, and though it’s one, it’s the most important. You say this is a game for you right? Let’s see how you win this game with no real chessmen on your side.” 

Jinki opened the door, turning one last time, “But in all honesty, I do hope your mother does get better.”

Kibum hated that those were the last words said. 

~///~

“They’re sure taking their time,” Minho said, mentally cursing Kibum because he just  _ knew  _ he’s up to no good. 

“I bet their getting to know each other better.” 

“They went to get towels, not for dinner,” Minho joked, “besides, it would be better if Jinki  _ didn’t  _ get to know Kibum, he’s not the nicest person in town, that’s for sure.” 

“You don’t get along?” 

“That’s a nice way of putting it.”

“Well, it doesn’t show in the way you play,” Jonghyun said, “you guys work flawlessly with each other, your moves are beyond polished.” 

“Yeah, well that’s what a lot of practice does,” Minho shrugged, “but thank you.”

“But still, your skills are really impressive, it must of token some dedication,” Jonghyun leaned on the wall, “your father must be proud. Especially since you got to the finals.”

“I hope he is,” Minho really hoped he was, because he had no clue if he was. 

“But as much pride he has, he also has high standards, right? The son of the famous badminton player must be just as good as the father?” 

Minho nodded, somewhat glad someone could understand, but yet on the edge that someone does. Still he refuses to say something, as if his words would confirm the suspicion of his tragedy.

“I thought what you said when we met the other day, how you agreed it was both a blessing and curse, and the more I thought of it, the more I felt for you. It must have been hard to maintain up to your father’s standards, and because of that you must have started to hate playing the game, right? You play like a pro, and that’s great, but you lost the heart in it, I can tell by the way you play, you can’t deny it.” 

“I’m still as passionate now as I was when I first started, maybe a bit stressed, pressured, but that’s given, this is a huge tournament, right?” 

Jonghyun shrugged, “I don’t want to push anything man, but just know that once you remember the passion you use to have, that’s when you’ll truly win.” 

Minho scrunched his face, he wanted to say something, he wanted to tell him that wasn’t it, but he didn’t have the chance as Jinki came back. 


	5. Chapter 5

A week passed since then, the pairs not meeting since. Instead, Kibum and Minho spent the time practicing, from the late morning until early evening, perfecting every move, planning every strategy. They had to win this tournament, they had to win that scholarship, they had to go solo. Taemin was there, like every day, cheering for them, supporting them, watching, hoping for the best, witnessing the worse. 

As the temperature rise with every day, so did the pressure, and the two didn’t seem to be working well with it. If Kibum wanted to smash, Minho wanted to drop shot, if Kibum went defensive, Minho would opt to the opposite. 

“What’s wrong with you, we’ve been practicing this strategy for hours,” Kibum finally complained, “what is there that you can’t understand?” 

Minho defended, “I just don’t think that this is very effective, besides, what’s wrong with what I’m trying to do?”

“If we do a tumbling net shot, we risk the cost of hitting the net, not to mention Jonghyun’s speed, which, by the way, is one of their strengthens. Allowing me to do a clear will put Jinki on the spot, having him to stretch, which is a disadvantage to them.” 

“I still think that using-”

“Do you want to win this or not?” Minho did, he wanted to win this more than anything. He wanted to win this to show his father, to escape the dark shadow that covered him. But still, this wasn’t right. 

“That’s what I thought, leave the strategy to me, and just play,” Kibum said, “you know, the one thing you’re suppose to be good at. I guess the apple does fall from the tree.”

Minho didn’t know how he ended up on the other side of the field, and he wasn’t to sure why he held Kibum’s collar, lifting him up ever so slightly, but he was. He could feel the hot blood rush through his body, a network of incoherent thoughts buzzing around, the noise around him was null. He only could tell what was happening when Taemin ripped them apart that Kibum was yelling at him.

“Say that again,” Minho gruff, “I dare you.”

“What’s wrong, you angry? Did I hurt your feelings? Aw, poor Minho who has to live with a famous father, poor Minho despite all of the acclamation he’ll receive, he’ll never have his father’s satisfaction, truly tragic.” 

“At least my father cares about me, that’s more than I can say about you. But you’re use to it right? Kibum, with no friends, Kibum who is all alone, maybe that’s why you’re so cold. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” 

Kibum took a step towards Minho, Taemin using his arm as a barrier, “Stop!” he said, before turning towards Minho. 

“Was that necessary?” he turned to the other, “was that all necessary? I understand that the pressure to win is high, no doubt it’s the finals of one of the biggest tournaments, but are you really going to let this get to you?” 

Taemin let his arm done, before continuing, “When I first saw you guys play, I wanted so bad to be like that. Not just in terms of skills, but in character as well. Kibum, with his strong presence, his strategic planning, Minho’s passion and love for the game, his drive to win. I knew you guys had your problems, but I shrugged it off as little quarrels, because I didn’t want to believe my role models were truly hateful beings.”

“If you want to win, you have to come together, you have to let go whatever grudge you hold against each other. If you want to win the finals, show me the Minho and Kibum I saw the first time I came here.” 

~///~

Jinki’s reading was disturbed with the smack of something falling on the table in front of him. He looked up at his friend, who had his arms crossed, his eyes falling down to the file in front of him. He instantly knew what it was, a lump in his throat forming. 

“Explain.” 

“I got the report the day we won the semi-finals. After you left to drop Minho off, they suggested an imaging to make sure there wasn’t any damaging. They found a malignant tumor in one of my lymph nodes. They offered to do a surgery the day after the finals. Don’t worry, it’s in the early stages, grade I, so I should be fine.”

“We’re dropping out of the tournament, that’s it,” Jonghyun said. 

Jinki got up, “we can’t just forfeit.”

“Jinki, we promised that we’ll go as far as your health will allow you, and right now, I can’t believe you are putting a game before a surgery. It’s a tumour for heaven sakes,” Jonghyun was almost yelling, almost, until his voice became very small, “why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” Jinki said, “I didn’t want this to affect the way you play, I wanted to win so bad. Jonghyun we want to win so bad.”

“A tumour.”

“It’s malignant, they said I’ll still be fine if we post-pone the surgery till then,” Jinki held on to the younger’s hand, “Jonghyun, don’t you trust me?”

“I don’t know,” he said, “it’s just – I’m scared Jinki. I’m scared that I’ll lose you, that because of some stupid dream, that you’ll risk your life to win. I don’t want that, that was never my dream. My dream was to win a tournament in a world where you’re healthy, where you’re happy.” 

“We will be,” Jinki reassured him, pulling him in for a hug, “I promise, after this, I’ll hang my racquet up for good. Just this once, please. Just one more time.”

~///~

The hospital door slid open, Kibum’s figure slipping in. He took a seat in front of the bed, reaching in his bag for something. Taking out a hair clip, he placed it in the older women’s hair, brushing the rest out of her face. He held on to her hand, as he retold the past few days, more on the other finalist, and his encounter with Jinki. 

“If he wasn’t my opponent, I’d feel terrible for him, but he is, so I can’t have sympathy for him. I shouldn’t. Though between you and me, it’s actually really tragic, and after this tournament, I hope he finds the help he deserves.”

He told her about Minho, about the fight, about Taemin.  _ It shouldn’t affect me, but here I am, sulking. I’m kinda glad you can’t see me like this _ , he said. But it wasn’t his fault, right? He had to do what was needed. He has to play to the opponent’s weakness and to their strengths. That’s how you win any game. This was all a game after all. 

Right.

Right?

It’s all a game, so it doesn’t matter if it means using someone’s sensitive parts to your gain, especially if you’re so willing to tell them. That’s what happened to him, that’s how he lost the game years ago. It’s a game, so even if he is alone, even if he has no one to lean on, even if he feels so numb, it doesn’t matter, because it’s how you win the game. 

That’s how you win life. 

But still. 

But still, he’s losing. Even if he does all this, even if he wins the game, he loses. He always loses. Because there really is no prize for him. Because he isn’t worth any prize. 

“Mom,” Kibum shifted in his seat, as if he was afraid that she might hear him – as if she could actually hear, “am I the wrong one? Am I the bad person?” he clenched hard on the sheets; his eyes clinched closed harder. 

“Mom,” he tried to call out, chocking on the words he wanted to hold back, “it’s hard. Its so hard.”

“Please come back soon,” his words spilled out of his tears, his light sobs drifting through the room, “please come back.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I’m – please come back.”

~///~

Minho sat at the table, ripping the bread, dipping it into his broth. The silence was familiar, his father reading the news, mother attending to other tasks. His thoughts were only full of tomorrow, and the looming tournament. He needed to win this, he had to prove himself, for his father, for himself. 

“The finals are tomorrow, aren’t they,” his father said, his eyes not leaving the paper. Minho gave a sound of approval, taking another bite from his food. 

“I’ll be there, I hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all, I would love it if you were watching,” Minho lied. 

“Great,” Yunkyum turned the page, “I expect a good outcome.”

As did Minho. 


	6. Chapter 6

The awaited day finally arrived, the stadium filling up with anticipating audience. The two pairs could feel the stares poring into them, as they made their way to their positions. Just as Kibum predicted, Jinki placed himself behind Jongyun, Kibum doing similar. The umpire took his place on the high seat, the match starting. 

Kibum served first, Jonghyun hitting it back, Minho copying him, the birdie bouncing back and forth, neither team letting off. While one would drive, the other would attempt a clear shot, one would get lucky, the other would have to play the price. The game progressing to a 20-17 score, the Flaming Crowns leading. Minho, putting this set to an end, hit the birdie in a sharp downward motion, a successful net kill. 

Switching sides, it was Jinki’s turn to serve, raising his arms backwards, flicking it to the other side. Kibum received the shot, passing it to the other side, and the rally began. The set played out differently, this time, the tables turning to favour the other team, the Shining Imperials winning 19-18. Though leading, it didn’t mean the game hadn’t a toll on Jinki’s health, feeling weaker by each rally, something Kibum could tell by his weaker grip of the racquet. 

“Minho, number 6,” Kibum ordered, “pronto!” 

Reluctantly, Minho assumed position, ready to move when the shuttle makes its way to their side. Just as planned, Jonghyun shot the birdie, Minho moving accordingly. This was Kibum’s chance to turn the tables, all he had to do was perform a perfect clear shot. Nothing he hasn’t done before. 

Doing so would bring them one step closer to winning the game. 

Jinki’s strength has already reached its limit, and only time will play against him, so it’s only natural for Kibum to take this step. There’s nothing wrong with this method, it wasn’t his fault that Jinki showed his weakness to him. 

Kibum made his stance, the birdie spiraling towards him, the taste of success in his mouth.

_ I want to see what type of person you are.  _

Jinki was wrong to trust him, this will be his downfall. 

_ ‘Maybe a part of me believes that there’s something underneath the façade you put up, or perhaps I just want to see what you do with this new information.’ _

_ ‘You can say that’s one thing we have against you, and though it’s one, it’s the most important’ _

Kibum smirked,  _ let’s see how far that bond will work out for you.  _ He lifted his hand, gathering his full force, eyeing the destination. 

_ ‘Kibum, with no friends, Kibum who is all alone, maybe that’s why you’re so cold. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.’ _

These voices won’t stop him, he has to win. Kibum has to win – because if he doesn’t, then the emptiness will become overwhelming. 

The hospital, the bed, his lying mother, the dark figure of a father, his lone grandma, they all flashed before him, like they were a sign. 

_ ‘You say this is a game for you right? Let’s see how you win this game with no real chessmen on your side.’ _

Kibum let out a shaky laugh, only audible for him to hear.  _ You want to know how I win this game? I’ll show you _ , he thought. With his resolution clear, Kibum made the shot, carefully putting less force, executing a perfect drop shot. 

Jonghyun, with his speed, hit the birdie before it hit their forecourt, the score increasing to a 20-18 set. 

“What was that?” Minho said, confused, “I thought you were supposed to win with a clear shot, you said yourself, with Jonghyun’s speed any shot further away the better.”

“Tactics change,” Kibum simply said, “just focus on winning.”

Unfortunately, they didn’t. With the set ending with a 21-19, the Shining Imperials were victorious. Ultimately, this in turn, put them into a rubber game. 

Jinki’s breathes became shallow, his eyes drooping, Jonghyun taking note, asking him if he’s alright. Jinki shook it off, saying that he can last one more round, to put all his attention to the game. Never failing to be observant, Kibum flagged for the referee, as he requested to speak to him. 

“Both Jinki and I are injured from the previous games, I request for us to change this game into a single, rather than doubles,” he said, the teams gathered around. 

After much debating on Kibum’s part, and consideration on the referee, it was agreed upon that Jinki and Kibum would sit out on the final match, Jonghyun and Minho playing the rubber game in single format. 

Taking their seats on the benches, Jinki pulled the younger boy aside, “why did you do that?”

Kibum just smiled, “I wasn’t satisfied with the placement of chess pieces, so I decided to change where they stood. Now I just have to wait and see how it plays to my advantage. You wanted to know what I did with the information you gave me? This is my choice.” 

It was then that Jinki understood Kibum perfectly. He smiled, glad to see he wasn’t wrong about the boy. 

~///~

The Two boys faced each other, Minho’s turn to serve. Throwing the birdie in the air, he could feel the pressure of the whole room fall on him. Starting with a high serve, Jonghyun easily shot back, Minho moving quickly on his feet to follow the favour. 

The game was nothing less than intense, each player putting their all in each move. If Minho did a half-court attack, Jonghyun would respond with smash. Similarly, if Jonghyun would balk during serving, Minho wouldn’t falter. They were neck-to-neck, the score even matching, 10-10, and neither were letting up. 

Personally, Minho didn’t know if he could win. Sure, in terms of his skills he was better, but there was something in Jonghyun that always made him on leg higher than him. No matter what Minho threw at him, he would go against its full force. 

“Giving up already?” Jonghyun said, as he hit the birdie. 

“And let you win, yeah right,” Minho said. 

“Then what’s wrong,” Jonghyun hit again, “you seem lost. Don’t tell me you forgot the reason why you came here.”

Minho would never forget. He’s here to win, to go solo, to show everyone his skills. And no one can stop him. 

“I mean, what really brought you here,” Jonghyun swung, “the reason you picked up the racquet.” 

It all made sense to Minho now. The reason why Jonghyun doesn’t give in, the reason why he’s so good. It’s not because of countless night practicing, it’s not to show off his abilities, he’s not trying to prove himself to anyone. He’s here to play, and only play. He never loss sense of what gripped him into the sport. 

Something Minho has to finally admit. Something, whether Minho liked it or not, forgot, and if not, pushed back. But now that he admits it, he’s one step closer to finding that spirit. 

Minho smiled, as he whipped his racquet, “The feeling you get when you hit the shuttle, the adrenaline running through your veins as you countered against your opponent. The satisfaction when the birdie fall, just missing the other racquet. Am I right?” 

Jonghyun nodded, “Couldn’t describe it better myself.” 

With the score raising to 13-13 each, the two were still at full throttle, and rather than backing down, they still seemed to have a lot left in them. Jinki watched his friend from the sideline, cheering for him, praising his every move. Kibum encouraged Jonghyun, though they seemed curt, gave out according complements. Taemin from his stands stood up, yelling for his mentor’s victory. 

_ I’ll show you why what I got,  _ Minho thought, as he put all his force in the next shot. 

Jonghyun didn’t miss a beat, hitting it back,  _ that’s right Minho, remember the feeling, play with that feeling in your heart.  _

The cheers of the crowd shook the stadium, Minho feeling the adrenalin in his blood. He could hear the familiar voices in his head, as they charged him. 

_ ‘I don’t want to push anything man, but just know that once you remember the passion you use to have, that’s when you’ll truly win.’ _

_ ‘If you want to win the finals, show me the Minho and Kibum I saw the first time I came here.’ _

Minho hit the shuttle once more,  _ Taemin are you watching? Is this the Minho you wanted to see?  _

Jonghyun, as happy as he was to see Minho playing the way he was, was also threatened. The toll of two intense games was falling upon him, and he could feel his grip becoming loss, his legs getting week, his vison getting blurry. He wasn’t too sure how long he could keep this up, but he had to. Not just for him, but for Jinki, who sacrificed everything to be here. 

Jonghyun ended the rally with a full smash, the score turning into 20-19. He wasn’t to sure when he started to lag behind, but he couldn’t stop now. He was in it to win it, and nothing will hold him back. Lucky for him, he wasn’t the only one losing steam, as Minho’s breathes became shorter and quicker. At this rate, more than who was a better player, this game will end up with the player with the more stamina. 

Minho’s vison doubled; his serve weaker than his others. Jonghyun took this opportunity to strike back, and so the long rally began again. Rather than sharp movements, they legs were lagged, their precision at an all time low. Minho tried pushing through, trying to concentrate, but the room just felt so dizzying, he was ready to give in. 

“Minho,” Kibum called from across the field, “don’t you dare stop now. Use this moment to prove me wrong. Show me what your capable of, don’t make my decision into a mistake.”

Minho nodded, and with the words of his partner, he gathered the rest of the strength he could muster, hitting the shuttle with a drive shot, a fast and furious shot to his opponent. 

Jonghyun could see the shuttle coming for him, it was spiraling towards him, with no means in stopping. If he could just hit it once, he knew he could turn this around, he knew Minho had no more power left in him. But, at the same time, he couldn’t find the strength the raise his arm. No matter how hard he tried, his body gave up on him. This couldn’t be the end, could it?

“Jonghyun,” Jinki woke his friend from his trance, his smile ever so present. He knew exactly what Jonghyun was feeling, he knew exactly how he felt, how hard he worked for this, so he couldn’t help but simple say;

“Thank you.” Jonghyun nodded, as he let the birdie fall right at his feet. 

And with that, the Flaming Crowns won the Korean Wave Badminton Tournament.

~///~

Kibum and Minho reached their hands out for a shake, “Good game,” Kibum said, Jinki gladly shaking his hand. 

“You two,” Jonghyun said, “and congratulations on the scholarships, you deserve it.” 

“And thank you,” Minho said, “I think this game has taught us more about ourselves than any other.”

“Just in a day’s work,” Jinki joked. 

“Speaking of a day’s work,” Kibum said, “I personally know a few surgeons who are willing to take care of your situation, and apparently willing to do it at a lower price if done for a friend of mine.”

“Really?” Jinki said, “and what would lead you to do something like that?” 

Kibum shrugged, “I was bored, so I decided to change up the game. Besides, my mother would want me to do something like this.”

“Okay, my turn,” Minho said, turning to Jonghyun, “I’m not taking the scholarship, I’m asking them to give it to someone I think would fit the criteria of a soloist much better.” 

Jonghyun face was a mix of shock and confusion, “you’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”

“Yup,” Minho said, “I’m giving the scholarship to Taemin. Just kidding, I really mean you.”

“But you won the tournament, besides, isn’t this something you always wanted?”

Minho thought for a moment, “I’m not too sure anymore. I don’t think I’m ready to go solo yet, there’s still a lot I can learn from this guy,” Minho said, pointing to Kibum.

“That goes for one of us.”

Minho gave out a yelp, as the other three laughed. 

“I don’t know what to say, thank you,” Jinki said, as he tired to find the right words to say. 

“Think of it as a payment for your help,” Kibum said, “whether we wanted it or not.” The group was interrupted with the sobs that seemed to be calling two names. As it came closer to them, it became apparent that Taemin was the one crying, hugging his two role models. 

“That was amazing,” Taemin said, “I’m so sorry for yelling at you two earlier.” Kibum pried the younger off, as Minho passed him a tissue. 

“It’s all good, without you talking sense into us, I’m not sure if we would’ve won.”

“Really?” Taemin said, receiving a nod from Minho, and a reluctant one from Kibum. 

“You’re right Taemin, no one is as good as Minho,” Jonghyun joked, Taemin giving a ‘right?’, Kibum defending his honor, stating that he was standing right here. The four continued to tease each other, Jinki thoroughly confused who this boy was and how Jonghyun knew him so well. 

“Wait Jonghyun, how do you know this kid?” Jinki asked, “I feel like I’m out of the blue here. Someone help me, please?”

**Fin**


End file.
